Call Centre - the stress continues. The axe murderess surfaces - another BFH

I will give a warning - I am SO wound up after speaking to some lowlife bit of rim scum on the phone today that I am thinking of switching jobs to anywhere where I don't have to deal with the shittier side of society.

Before I rant this out of my head (and it's going to happen) I have to say most people I speak with are lovely.  Really, of the 30 or so people I speak to every day I would say on average I am forced to communicate with, up their own arse people only very rarely; on average once every three or four months or so.  Sadly these lowlife bits of rim-scum are likely to come through at the end of a day or worse at the end of  a week or worse still just before a holiday.  This is bad because the last call always sets the mood for the trip home and sometimes the weekend as well.

How lovely to speak to a lovely, smashing, wonderful person at the end of the day who restores your faith in mankind. - Typically "Good bye Mr Jones thank you for calling us today, you take care and have a lovely day. Bye now'.  Yes folks that is me on a normal day with a normal customer - professional, friendly, happy. Both parties leave with a good feeling.  Whether or not that customer called with a query, a complaint, a request, whatever.  I know I have given them the very best it is possible for me to give, hopefully have given them a good customer experience, had a little chat whilst remaining professional and sorted out the reason for their call.  Many say 'Thank you, you have been very helpful' and they wish me a lovely day.

Not this time though. Today I spoke to the Bitch From Hell.  BFH came through with attitude.  She wanted it all and she wanted it yesterday.  I was friendly, explained her time frames were somewhat unrealistic but I would certainly do my very best for her and ... "EXCUSE ME' says BFH 'I am you customer and it is YOUR job to give me what I want.'  I explained I would do what I could but she needed to speak with the right department and for that she would have to wait. 'BUT', said BFH 'I am telling you I DON'T WANT TO WAIT. I want it done now, I am a busy person (like BFH is the only one who has ever been busy and perhaps assuming this would enable me to treat her differently) and I am NOT prepared to wait.'

I started to explain other customers also wanted what she wanted and they had to wait as well but they had booked a slot like everybody else. 'EXCUSE ME' says BFH this is RIDICULOUS'. What is your name?' This was actually a demand - said as if asking for my name was a threat in itself which of course, it was. I told her my name knowing with 100% certainty the instant I did this she would turn it against me. Predictably she did exactly that. All her toys came hurling out of the pram 'Right Izabelle Winter, I am not happy speaking to you as we are obviously not making any progress WHATSOEVER. I want your MANAGER!'

What I would have liked to say was 'So you want my manager because you can't have what you want and you want him to tell you exactly what I have just told you.' but because I am paid to be professional, I didn't.  I got my manager.

As soon as he got on the phone BFH went through a miraculous personality transformation worthy of an Oscar and put on her other face - she was as sweet as pie.  Hell! personality disorder or what.  This is very often a trait of the BFH - many if not all have this psycho personality. It makes me mad ~ The manager then wonders what all the fuss was about.  As is usually the case the manager told her EXACTLY what I had told her.  BFH accepted this and sweetly thanked him for sorting it out for her.

COW!  I hope she gets a large dose of Karma.

It's now over three hours since I spoke to BFH.  I'm still seething.  It's not so much the complaint but the condescending attitude, talking over me, demanding my name, speaking to me as if I were an amoeba's droppings and the loud 'Excuse Me's together with the refusal to let me finish a sentence. She has contributed towards the beginnings of a stomach ulcer.  It kills me not to be able to tell those type of rim scrapings what I really think of them.  Not sure if today is a full moon - traditionally evil, slimey creatures emerge from swamps on Full Moons.

 I conclude it must be a Full Moon.

Rant over.  I feel marginally better now.  Just a quick call to a friend of mine who owns a 'stress' pin cushion - some people would call it a voodoo doll but I dispute this.  Hers is just a pincushion shaped like a person.  I shall ask her to stamp on its head and stab it in the eye on my behalf.

I feel better already :)

Call Centres- Evil places - Are they ever a career CHOICE?

Over my working career during the past 25 or so years and considering all the call centres I have worked in, I have never met anyone who left school with a grand plan to work in a call centre.

Following my previous post over a year ago about call centres being the most stressful and evil places to work, I was determined to escape the one I was working in at the time. I'd had enough of those calls which made me literally shake with anger and frustration. I never ever wanted to talk to the lowlifes who regarded screaming abuse at a stranger in a call centre as entertainment.

I told myself the next time I was abused I would inform the lowlife peasant on the other end of the phone just where to stick their mouldy carrots. No longer would I 'act the professional' when confronted by one of life's losers who had nothing better to do than call someone unfortunate enough to have to work in a call centre on a Sunday evening and tell them they would come and break the poor unfortunate worker's legs because their meat was too chewy.

Never again would I bite my tongue to the point of near severence to prevent myself from giving as good as I got.  I almost prayed for a nasty call so I could get all the pent up frustration out. Boy was that peasant going to get it.  After I gave my notice I was just waiting for opportunity. Sadly it never came.

The last call I took in that job was a really sweet old lady who rang to say we had delivered one too many tins of cat food and would we like her to bring it back next time she was in the local store.  She restored my faith in humanity. No way was I going to be anything other than charming and polite back to her.

The only call which came close to giving me my opportunity for payback was some screaming idiotic man who was at a caravan site for half term and the delivery driver was not able to find him. At 4pm he had called to say the van was an hour late and he had five kids sitting round the table waiting for their tea and they were all starving (at 4pm).  He said if we didn't get his shopping to him within the next ten minutes he would write to all the papers and the company director and the Queen and whoever else he could think of. Not able to insert a word edge-ways, I let him get on with his tirade of abuse.

This caller was not getting at me personally but just venting (it is different - trust me).  I was trying not to laugh by the end, firstly because I knew the end of my tunnel was looming and so my whole mood was lighter but I checked this man's shopping list, ten bananas,, two bottles of vodka, seven tins of cat food and a frozen chicken not entirely sure what he expected to feed the kids who were already sitting at the table but hilariously he told me at the end of the call "If I have to wait any longer to feed these six children I will charge you for child cruelty". If only I had had the nerve to congratulate him on his virility as his brood of kids had increased by one since the start of the call.

It was time to leave that job. I could almost feel an ulcer or six developing. It is surely plain cruelty to make someone sit for eight hours a day plugged into extension 666 and to have to be polite. courteous and professional to whatever wretched excuse for humanity feels the urge to grab their phone and yell abuse and obscenities down the line at whichever unfortunate is forced to answer.

I finally escaped the job from Hell last July. Woo Hoo. I found a new job...

(in a call centre).

What was I thinking?!?!

Well - the new job is with a different company in a different sector, it has a different reputation, the job is different in that the new job involves people calling BECAUSE THEY WANT SOMETHING. I am careful not to put too much information in here for obvious reasons but the difference between the old job - which was basically front line sh*t catcher and the new job are worlds apart.  The old job involved the peasants calling when they were at the peak of their frustration and anger and shouting at someone they appeared to believe was an uneducated, stupid, idiotic plank of a verbal punch bag.  The new job - still a call centre for the public, but one where the callers want what is on offer offer and are prepared to listen to me when I speak to them with some respect and with a pleasant attitude because they WANT something.  There are still the odd few who throw their verbal toys out of the pram when I tell them they can't have what they want due to factors which cannot be changed but these mainly accept this with good grace.

Odd - I am the same person with the same education, background, accent and everything else but I am spoken to as if I am at least a person.  It is a welcome change.

I am happy to report that all call centres are not the same.  The new one is different.  I have spent many hours in different call centres over my working life and the current one is probably one of the best of all of them.

My very first ever call centre job was in an outbound call centre selling advertising for the local free newspaper.  The basic wage was only very slightly above minimum wage PLUS there was commission which it was pointed out could double your wages.  WOW - full of enthusiasm I was in. Right from the word go I HATED it. The training started with how to call a customer - create a rapport - use their first name, make notes about their likes/dislikes, pet's name.  I thought this was so false and it didn't sit right with me.  There was a lot of pressure, a lot of 'These are the rules - but you will move forward faster if you break them all - although if you get caught breaking them you will get shot'. If you are a manager you can break the rules but if you are regular staff you can't - although those high fliers appear to have broken them all.

The constant calling out to see if someone wanted to advertise in the paper was soul destroying.  At an estimate 90% of people would tell you they were not interested, others would say that the last time they advertised they had a compliant which still wasn't resolved so the whole call was pointless as they spent the next half hour complaining.  The easier calls would just involve being told to go f*ck yourself, at least those were to the point. The very worst ones were those who weren't able to say 'no' so told you to call back later - when you did they told you to call again - these were the one final hope - the one you clinged on to until the end of the day - if you had no sales and then finally on your fourth call they would tell you to leave them alone - 'can't you take a hint?'

I hated that job SO much I had to go.  Outbound calling was NOT my forte quite obviously.

When an insurance company opened locally I applied. I figured incoming calls would be easier - if people were calling ME because they wanted something then this would be better.  I would not have to pick up the phone and dial as they wold come to me.  I would ask a few questions and sell them insurance and they'd be gone.  MUCH EASIER.  There were the odd few customers who were downright rude, a few who just rang us as they were bored, a few just because the number was free, a few to tell us what underwear they had on and a few rang to buy insurance.

One incident which will stay with me for ever was a late night waster - these people knew we shut at 10pm and would call five minutes beforehand purely to make someone's life as difficult as possible. Knowing we were not supposed to hang up on them they took full advantage to make the call as nasty as possible.  They would complain about everything and nothing and demand a manager.  One such call came through to a colleague who shall be nameless.  After the customer had screamed at my colleague for twenty minutes and my colleague had patiently let him vent my colleague had taken enough abuse. Firmly he said
"Mr Green.  Mr Green, MR GREEN - OK let me talk now. - Mr Green I have listened to you and it is now 10:20 at night.  We officially closed twenty minutes ago - let's try to resolve this shall we? Firstly Mr Green, let me check you have noted my name'..
The reply was "No I bloody haven't,"
So my colleague replied "Well F**k Off then' and pressed the red button.

Oh how I wish I had the guts to do that sometimes.

I moved on from there to a call centre at a loss adjuster for a year and then on to another insurance company.  I managed to get a very nice back office job where I stayed for eleven years.  Sadly this insurance company went belly up after the credit crunch and I got made redundant along with 220 others in my office.

So now I am in another call centre,  How did that happen?  I am happy to report that all call centres are not the same.

Breast Screening - What on Earth... In a CAR PARK.

As I approach a certain age I have noticed certain things are stopping working, falling off, heading south, changing colour or seizing up.  I have tried to counteract this by riding a bicycle to work, eating healthy stuff, drinking water and getting a lot of sleep.  I don't smoke, never have and I probably drink about one pint of beer every couple of months on a night out.  I am a lightweight as far as alcohol is concerned - my friends joke that one wine gum and I am under the table.  They're not far wrong.

My advancing age had obviously rung a bell somewhere deep within my GP surgery's office and they decided that I should start attending age related health checks.  So just before Christmas I was 'invited' for a breast screening check in Sainsburys car park.

That's right SAINSBURYS CAR PARK.  Good heaven's above!  The days of me getting my baps out in Sainsburys car park are long gone.  I sincerely hoped there would be some sort of caravan based there although there was no mention of this on the letter.  For all I knew there could be a seedy old man with a pair of marigolds leaping out from behind a van.

I was therefore pleasantly surprised to find a large mobile unit with 'Breast Screening Wales' on the side.  As I climbed the steps I did wonder if it was too late to turn and run for the hills.  I told myself to be responsible and act my age and so with a deep breath I went in.

There was a pleasant young nurse in the reception area who told me to go into a small changing room, remove my bra and put my top back on.  I did this and sat in the waiting room with my arms crossed extremely aware that it was a tad on the cold side in there. I don't like swinging in the breeze EVER. It doesn't feel natural having anything swinging about anywhere.  I have trained my girls to sit where they are supposed to be - to date they are totally well behaved and have stayed north of my sternum which is where I like them.  My girls are quite petite and so far are happy to stay put. We have an agreement they stay put, I provide the support; It works well.

In the main waiting room were some ladies - somewhat older than me and apparently quite happy to be sitting there with their boobs resting on their laps.  I never feel comfortable making small talk with strangers so under the circumstances I was relieved when I was called in first.  A young nurse greeted me - a friendly type, although at a guess young enough to be my daughter.  In the room was the nurse, a screen, a chair and a huge monster like machine which looked like the spray gun from the Picasso car ad. The nurse asked me a few questions - had the girls ever given me any grief? - they haven't.  Have they ever been checked before - not by the type of robot death monster thing which was staring at us.

The nurse asked me to stand by the machine and put my arms by my side.  I did and had to let go of the girls - I felt a bit awkward and must have looked it.  The nurse then grabbed one of the girls and squidged her flat onto the machine between two slab things.  I don't know what was the biggest shock - the nurse grabbing my left boob and manhandling it or having it mashed flat.  She told me not to worry - SHE had control of the plates so they wouldn't suddenly get tighter - as if this would make me feel any better.  She said this as I thought my poor boob was about to pop.  I was stood there with my boob sandwiched flat - like I was trapped - the idea is you don't move - not as if I could have moved if I'd wanted to - I was trapped by my left boob!

The nurse did the same with the other one and then again with each one squished vertical.  By the time she had finished with me I felt like my boobs had been run over by a steam roller.  It didn't hurt but it wasn't dignified.

I was allowed to put my essentials back on and I escaped as swiftly as I was able.  I was straight out the door - straight past all the old ladies in the waiting room, silently praying my boobs will never end up shaped like old rugby socks crossed with puppy dogs' ears,

I await the letter with the results.

Car Insurance Renewal - three hours of my life I will NEVER get back

This evening at 7pm my phone rang.  For once I could actually understand the accent on the line, so I made the effort to listen.  I immediately regretted that decision.  It was Swinton Insurance Brokers telling me my car insurance renewal was due.

Here we go again - It's that time of year.

I am not particularly computer compliant but I know how to use a comparison site to find cheaper car insurance.  It takes about fifteen minutes, switch on PC, go compare a few confused meerkats and off you go.  Usually the quotes are all about the same in the lowest band ~ anywhere around £225 depending on excesses and extras. 

My insurance is fairly straight forward, no previous claims or convictions and maximum no claims bonus.  I spent fifteen years working in car insurance so I know what I am talking about. 

As the renewal date is actually 11th Jan I had not yet done my searching.  Usually I do it two days beforehand, online.  15 minutes - Simples!

Swinton asked me the same 101 or so questions they ask me every year.  Even though NOTHING had changed other than I am a year older they still had to ask.  I had almost lost the will to live by the end.  She came up with a quote of £360 which I said was not even close.  She then gave me a reference number and put me through to someone in BEWISE Insurance.

The idiot I was put through to in BEWISE was clearly freshly out of a cave or school or something as his common sense was seriously lacking.  He asked how he could help me!  I said I doubted he could, someone had called me and put me through to him.  I gave him the reference number he found my details - which had been taken minutes before on the same phone call.  Nevertheless he asked me ALL of the 101 or so questions again plus a few more for good measure.  He also asked for my mobile number.  I told him no chance was he getting that.  He told me it wasn't for him it was for the database!  Erm...quite!  I told him no way - I didn't want sales calls on my mobile.  He finally came up with a best quote of … wait for it … £450. ‘How does that sound?’ he said, hopefully.  Bear in mind I'd already told him the previous company quoted £360 which was itself £140 more than my renewal quote.

As if anticipating my reply he says ‘Hang on I may be able to offer you cashback after 90 days of’… (the suspense was suffocating)... ‘£150 – How does THAT sound’. 
My response was not repeatable but along the lines of ‘Why on earth would I pay £220 more than my renewal quote to you, to have you give me £150 back after 90 days?’.   Furthermore the excess on his policy was double that of my renewal.

You would have thought he would have given up. However, full marks for perseverance. He said ‘There may be someone who could beat that quote. Can I put you through to XYZ insurance?’ and before I could remove my head from the brick wall I was bashing it against, a voice on the line said ‘Hello, How can I help you today?’ I advised them as politely as I was able that I did not think they could and I hung up.

I will be renewing my insurance with my current company online.   It will take me about 2 minutes and I'll be good to go. Thanks to that call I rest, reassured that I am getting the best deal by remaining with my current company.

 As I write my phone is ringing again. It had better NOT be a broker!

Christmas again at the call centre - same old, same old...

Christmas - traditional a time for giving and sharing and for thinking of those poor individuals who will not be having a happy nor a merry Christmas.  Those who have done nothing wrong and don't deserve to be treated badly. Real people like you and me.  They haven't asked to be in this situation but life has thrown them a duff card.

While everyone else is enjoying Christmas and winding down at work so they can spend Christmas with their families, these poor unfortunates are in a dark place where they are abused over and over.  They are tied to the spot by a curly wire, allowed only eight minutes each day to have a 'comfort break' and escape their torture. Forced to endure up to eight hours a day of abuse and forced against their very human urges and instincts to be polite and friendly to their abusers. Forced by fear of no longer being able to feed or clothe their families.

These poor unfortunates are otherwise known as 'Call Centre Workers' or 'customer service reps'.

As guilty as I (don't) feel for deserting my ex colleagues months ago for pastures new I am still in touch with them - they are really nice people in real life.  I met up with a few of them last week - poor souls - full of pent up anger and frustration caused by their abusers.

Those abusers are the people who call up daily because they have nothing better to do.  These abusers are commonly known as 'customers'.

Back at the call centre, my darkest memories continue to haunt those remaining there.

Two consecutive calls taken by one of my friends as follows - 1) The company had delivered a large delivery to a customer which was all present and correct.  So why did this 'lady' - I use the term loosely for I ought not to write my opinion of her. This 'lady' also received a tin of pilchard cat food. The lady had not ordered the cat food nor had she been charged for it. My ex-colleague apologised for this oversight and confirmed she could keep the tin.  This 'lady' did not want the tin and said she wanted the company to go and collect it.  It was explained to her that as this is Christmas, all the vans are extremely busy and full so the best option was for her to keep it/throw it/donate it, whatever - she had not paid for it. 'The 'lady' bellowed down the phone,
   'Listen you stupid girl - I don't want your f***ing cat food, I don't like cats and I don't want it in my house.'  #
She was offered a gesture of goodwill of £5.
   'Are you bloody deaf or are you bloody stupid?' she screamed down the phone 'I don't want it! I demand you come and get it right now'.
Sadly staff are not allowed to tell customers to stick items where the sun doesn't shine and due respect to my ex-colleague for her great restraint in not doing so.  She did, however, tell the caller to get a grip, for which she received a verbal warning.
I imagine this customer was probably last seen flying into the night on her broomstick - without the cat!

Next, a delivery van had broken down and this had an impact on the deliveries remaining on the van.
Customer "I want to know where my order is."
My ex-colleague made a few phone calls and discovered the van was broken down and a replacement was being located. This was explained to the customer who said;
"So where is my shopping?'
He got an honest answer - "I'm sorry we don't know right now but will call you when we know!"
"I'm not interested in your piddly excuses why can;t you f***ing tell me where it is SIMPLE QUESTION DARLING - Yes or No?"

Patronising twonk!

Just one day left... and counting.

Happy Christmas everyone :)

What is the WORST thing a girl can ever find in her handbag?

I may have mentioned previously that I have an allergy-free pet.  In my opinion my pet is the PERFECT pet for me.  He has no fur to make me sneeze and wheeze.  He makes no noise at all so never barks when I am on the phone. He has never bitten me or any of the family.  He recognises the family and is the most gentle pet I could wish for.  He only has a poo once or twice a week which is easily cleaned and sorted.  He only eats once a week. He doesn't moult fur everywhere all over the house.  he doesn't smell.  I love him to pieces, as do the kids. His only requirement is a hidey house for when he wants to be alone and a heat mat for him to regulate his temperature.

His name in 'Trouser' and this is him >>>

As I said he is gorgeous! A four feet long corn snake.

Anyway, last week his mouse supply ran out - his mice are bought frozen at the local pet shop.  I nipped in there to get some mice on the way home on Friday evening - they had frozen mice on offer four for the price of three so I bought four and put them in my handbag to take straight home. (They are supplied in a plastic bag). As soon as I got home I put the mice in the freezer in the garage and as the weather was cold I went straight into the house.

That night I went out for a few drinks and a natter with the girls - all went well.  I got home and went to bed a bit the worse for wear. Saturday and Sunday I stayed in the house in my onesie feeling a bit sorry for myself - a touch of man-flu and one too many vino's on the Friday.

Monday morning I went to work, put my bag and coat by the heater and sat at my desk a few desks down.  About eleven O'clock I went to break and opened my bag for my purse.  I scrabbled about in the bottom for my purse while I nattered with my colleagues.

It was then I discovered it - soft and squidgy but a bit stiff - WTF.. I checked my bag to see what the hell I had put my hand on - I looked in the bag and screamed.  That offer on frozen mice - five for four - I had bought five - and only four had gone into my home freezer.

Yeuch!  It stank! My colleagues looked at me - somewhat 'gone off''.  I couldn't show them.  I couldn't even tell them. What was I supposed to say?  What the hell was I supposed to do with it?  I could hardly put it in the bin in the canteen could I?  I couldn't leave it in the bin in the toilet either.  In the middle of a huge building where could I put it? I couldn't fling it out the window.

I got up and left - fast.  I went outside and put it in a bin outside.  Touching the thing made me gag - it has clearly been in my bag since Friday 4pm and now it was Monday 11am. It had been to the pub with me Friday night and then lain undisturbed in my bag all weekend without being noticed until now.

It smelled VILE!

The bag and almost everything in it went in the bin with the mouse.

I went in for a scrub but the smell, I am convinced, followed me all day.  I am not sure what my colleagues thought - I didn't dare tell them but my behaviour must have seemed a bit odd.

On the positive side - time for a new handbag - as if I needed an excuse!

Ford KA - love 'em or hate 'em

Ford KA

I have bought my 2nd Ford KA!  I needed a cheap runaround to get the kids to school and back.  This particular example of modern transport has no heating, no radio (speakers have blown), no powered steering, no electric windows, a rattly exhaust, a dodgy door lock, a dodgy looking stain on the roof and it smells of feet.  I LOVE IT.  It has real character.

I had one for two years before I had the kids. It was pink. I loved it - it was actually a KA2 but hey we won't get too technical here. It was the first car I had specifically chosen - I was looking for a KA rather than a cheap car. I was looking for a yellow and black one as I wanted a car that stood out from the others. However when I discovered a pink one in the paper, I had decided it was mine before I even saw it. When I did see it I bought it.

I tried for a very long time to get the bumpers to be black again. I used 'back to black' and various colour improvers but the bumpers seemed determined to remain grey. I discovered that this was because they were, in fact, supposed to be grey!  I had to sell it when the kids came along as trying to strap twin babies in the back of a Ford KA was a nightmare of contortion and head banging.

I swapped the original KA for a Renault Megane scenic which was loads bigger but which blew up after 6 months. I then got a Fiat Bravo which was fab but a bit of a fade into the background car. I sold the Bravo when I bought my Fiat Coupe 1996 in broom yellow which I love but was not good for short local journeys.

I therefore bought another KA as a 2nd car runaround what a stunning example of modern engineering it is. However - this particular one is a bit - er - basic! for want of a better descriptive term. It is 'P' reg which, I believe is the oldest they get. No Power Assisted Steering, this means I get monster dimwit looks when I am trying to park the thing. Yes it is small, yes, it should squeeze in anywhere. However, it doesn't. I am left a sweating fuming mess when someone is watching me park or pull into or out of a space. It is NOT easy with no powered steering. It has no electric windows either - you have to WIND the windows up and down - how quaint. There is no heater AT ALL and in the winter it is mighty freezing. If you want to clear the windows you have the air blower on - this is all or nothing - in that it works only on setting 4 which is full blast. Bearing in mind this is only going to be COLD air this makes things interesting to say the least. On a cold, wet day you have to drive with the air blasting on full which is mighty noisy and with the windows open. Also the boot does not open - the key goes click click click and round in circles. So to use the boot space - which is only the size of a lipstick anyway, you have to lob your shopping over the back seat. This is made easier by the lack of a rear window shelf thing. Getting the shopping out again though is a different matter.

If you want to let passengers into the car you have to open the passenger door from inside - it will not open from outside. So you have to get in from the drivers side and lean over to open the door. Not so easy if your passengers are three years old twins who do not find waiting on the pavement very interesting - far more fun to run off while you are faffing about. Next there is the brilliant stereo system on this little KA. Actually - the lack of a stereo system. When I bought the KA the stereo was missing. I assumed the previous owner had had their own stereo in it and had removed it before selling it. I put my own in after I bought the car - only to find the speakers were blown. So - no music in the car either.

Despite its various - er - character building qualities it does have a few redeeming features. It gets me from A to B remarkably economically. I can park it anywhere and not worry about some plank nicking it. I really, truly do not care if it adds another scratch or two to its already - er 'interesting' paintwork. The car itself smells of feet. Not mine - really - I have tried air freshners and all sorts but it still smells of feet. Also there is a very interesting 'stain' on the roof - as if someone has opened an exploding can of ribena from the drivers seat. The paint is dull from years of neglect, the seat covers are ripped and the car has been, generally, unloved and neglected.  How much did this remarkable feat of engineering cost me? £450. Flipping bargain I guess. I do like the Ford KA (the original one). I don't like the new style.

When I worked in an insurance company a chap asked me what is a good car to buy for cheap insurance. I said the Ford KA was a very low group so could be a good bet.
He said "Yes, but who would want to be seen in one of those things?" The answer, my friend - is 'I would', as would, I believe, anyone else who has ever driven one.

Roofers - do I really want hippo sized cowboys on my roof?

What is it about roofers. Three of the four I have had round to establish the location of the leak from my roof have been HUGE.

In short if my roof did not need repairing when they arrived, it would need replacing when they left. It would be similar to dropping a small hippo on a slate roof from outer space. Really, I mean if you are 23 stone, realistically, a roofer would not be on your 'most suitable jobs' list would it?

I know very little about roofs. I know they are better if they are sloping rather than flat. I know they are supposed to keep the water out and I know that local seagulls like to dance on them in cloggs at 4am. (at least that is what it sounds like). That is about the limit of my knowledge on roofs.

So when the roof inside the bedroom leaks when it rains, I can only logically guess the roof is no longer fully waterproof and so I call a roofer.

Nightmare!

Roofer number one comes round and stands in the garden looking at the roof. He tells me he can't see anything wrong with the roof. - Neither can I although if you look inside the house (which he didn't feel was necessary), clearly SOMETHING is amiss. I gave up on him and asked another roofer. The 2nd roofer came round and he went on the roof. He said the flashing from the chimney at the front was missing and he could replace it for £20. I could see this was the case and so I let him replace it. He said if it still leaked then possibly we would need the chimney repointed -' but mind you', he said. 'it would be cheaper to remove the chimney than to repoint it' - cost £2400.

The roof continued to leak. I have been watching one too many episodes of COWBOY BUILDERS and so decided to knock on the door of 2 houses down my street which have new roofs to see if they can recommend a builder. It turned out the 2 houses with new roofs had been done my the same roofer. I called the roofer. he came round. He was, ahem, a large gentleman but he talked the talk and I described the leak. he said he could take off some tiles to have a look but he would need to put scaffolding up and once a few tiles had been removed, if he found something bad then it would obviously be best to fix it while he was there. Worst case scenario - new roof £5000. £5000 for a new roof! We hadn't even established the cause of the leak so I thought a new roof was probably a tad excessive. I had the gut feeling that whatever the cause, this chap would tell me I needed a new roof - anyway and as I was never likely to be able to get on the roof then I would never know any different. He could not be more price specific until he had got on the roof and removed some tiles to see -for which he would need scaffolding... I said I would get back to him.

Next I had a roofer recommended by a friend, she used him as she had seen his van around for years. She said he was 'OK no problems'. I called him. He said he would come round between 3 and five on Tuesday. At 10am on Monday there was a knock on my door. A boy at the door said he was the roofer. I took him round the outside to explain the problem. I thought he was a bit young. He told me he would tell his boss who was in the van. The van was in the street. We both walked over to the van and I saw why the 'boss' had sent the boy. The boss was about 45 stone and appeared either to have been poured or wedged into the transit van in which he sat which was sitting low on the driver's front wheel. My inner voice said to me 'NO WAY are you letting him go on your roof'.

He did not ask to see the leak inside the house. 'Who the hell did that roof?' he asked 'If he'd worked for me he would have been fired on the spot!' He waited for an answer - which I was not going to give him. The roof had held steady for the 6 years since the house was built - it may not have been the neatest roof I ever saw but if it had held for six years, it could not have been that bad. He said he could put in a 'bonding gutter' which is a gutter which runs between two houses usually either with different types of tiles - ie slate and ridged. I have never seen one used on a terraced house. I suggested I thought it MAY be the gutters as it was inside the house directly where the gutters join. He said he would go get the ladders and then go and have a look. He returned 4 hours later with a bit of 'bonding gutter' to show me. he did not go on the roof as he had promised. He mentioned he thought the chimney may need the flashing replacing. He would quote me for it. I asked if it would be cheaper to remove the whole chimney as we do not use it. He said it might be. I pushed him for a rough price for this. He said £200 if he did it while he was up there. (bear in mind the other roofer quoted £2400 for this).

He finally left and 5 days later posted a quote bonding gutter £500 plus VAT, chimney stack re-leading - £300 + VAT and replace gutters and fascias front and back (although it is only leaking at the back) £650 + VAT. All very nice but nobody had actually established what was the problem and how much it would cost to fix the problem.

:( The entire issue was made loads worse because every time a roofer came round to the house, the residing bloke would disappear to the shops for fags or just make himself scarce leaving me on my own at the mercy of whatever.

So I did research on the internet and I posted photos on an online DIY forum. I told everyone and anyone about my roof and asked if anyone could recommend a reliable roofer. People lost interest very quickly. Still I persevered and still the roof leaked.

Then on the school run one day I mentioned it to a fellow parent who said he knew a roofer at his local church. 'A very nice chap' he said. I called the very nice chap who said he would come round 4 days later on the Friday morning. On the Thursday afternoon I had a call from 'im indoors, The roofer had come round and was at our house. I jumped on the bus and asked the bloke to show him the leak inside. 'im indoors said the roofer had looked at the leak inside and was now on the roof singing. !!!!! By the time I got home there was a little man drinking tea in my garden and ladders all over the house. Little man explained what he thought the issue may have been - there was flashing missing from the side of the house - I could see this from the garden. He said it would be best to fix this first as this was the most obvious. if this did not work then the next step was to replace the soakers under the flashing and then if that did not work then we could possibly look at the bonding gutter. He quoted £70.

! He was able to do the job then and there. He was on the roof like a whippet.  The roof has not leaked since.

Changing broadband provider. Most Definitely Not Simples!

I have decided that I am going to change my TV/Broadband/Telephone package from my current supplier because we are paying £44 a month which I think is frankly, excessive.

Being a working p/t time mum of 3 under 12's, necessity dictates I watch whatever is on the TV when I am passing through. I don't plan my viewing.  I grew up with just three channels so I am OK with this concept. I don't need any flash packages.  I've never worked out how to use the recording thing and to be totally honest in my view High Definition doesn't look any different from normal TV. Yes really.  So for TV I'll convert to Freeview.

I also want to keep my current telephone number.  This is a reasonable request.  I've had my home phone number for about seven years and it is the number I use to give to business callers and to my dad who has a hard time remembering numbers and so has programmed his phone - this took a lot of doing.  My friends use my mobile.

14.11.14 I rang my current provider of TV telephone and broadband to say I wanted to leave and to ask what the procedure is.  They say I have to give 30 days notice.

I ring a different company, who have a good current deal on telephone and broadband.  This company is a large supermarket.   I like their offer but their web site is down so can't take up the offer.  I did a web chat with someone, I assume was in India, who said to try later - this web chat was recorded and e-mailed to me.  I will try later.  I asked on the web chat if, once I took out the new package, I could delay the start date - I was told YES.

15.11.14 Went online to take out the new plan with new provider and did a further web chat to them in India.  I was unable to select a start date for the plan online so again, I asked, for the sake of confirmation, whether I was able to delay the start date to coincide with the end date for the current service.  He confirms 'Yes - this can be done by calling Customer Service Line after the order has gone through'.  He confirms order has gone through.  I have a copy of the web chat emailed to me.

Rang new provider straight after web chat and within minutes of taking out their plan. but they're closed, message said to call back tomorrow.  I send new provider an e-mail straight away (within minutes of taking out the plan) advising would like to delay start until 14/2.  Auto e-mail from new provider to say they have had email will reply within 48 hrs.

Rang current provider - closed - call tomorrow.

16.11.14 I rang current provider to cancel and advise I am giving 30 day notice. Asked them about porting number to new provider. They say new provider will have to request it from them BEFORE the current a/c is closed.  Current provider cancels the cancellation request and reinstate the service so I can keep the phone line until the new provider can request portal of the number. - If I cancel it before the request is received they will not be able to get it ported.  She says has now cancelled broadband and TV from 15th Feb. I will have to call back after I have spoken to new provider to give notice for the telephone of 30 days.  The phone line remains live without notice.

New provider send lots of e-mails to welcome me to their broadband service and a further email to say they can answer my email query if I provide address and name and date of birth this will take 48 hrs.  Rang new provider, believing this would be quicker, to advise I want their service to start on 14 Feb and not now.  I need to delay it.  They say they can't delay it - I need to take it out about 10-14 days before I need it to start. 

New provider say they will keep the order on hold and make a note so I can just call 14 days before to re-activate it (surely this is delaying it?).  I ask if it is cancelled or on hold.  They are not clear but ask me to call back 14 days before my new start date.  I ask about porting my number over, new provider say I will need to request that the number is ported over from current provider when I call to activate the new service as this is the only way it can be done.  That is IF it can be done but they are not clear about it.  I need to ask once the new service is activated.

So I cannot cancel or give notice to the current provider until the new provider send them a porting number request yet I cannot start the new provider contract until 14 days before I want it to start.

Headache coming on..

Email received from new provider to advise the router is on its way.  Decide to ignore this as I have just called them and hope they will sort themselves out.  I e-mail them for good measure.  They email me back saying to provide my name address and foot size and they will reply within 48 hours.

19.11.14  Router arrives.

Rang new provider - spoke to Adam in sales 1:40pm.  Adam says new provider MAY be able to contact current provider regarding porting the number but not until AFTER I have started the new package process which needs to be 14 days before I want it to start - they cannot delay the start date.  He said to ask about this when I call back to start the package which needs to be at the end of January - ie 14 days before installation.  I mention this process ideally needs to start 30 days before I leave the old provider (ie now). Adam is adamant he cannot do anything at the moment.

21.11.14 Rang current provider as they seemed to think it was easy for new provider to apply for the number from them.  Current provider checked - she read out a list 'we have a current porting agreement with *** ' there follows a list of providers , New provider is clearly on that list.  They just need to submit a porting request - 'This is a very simple process' she says.

Rang new provider, chap says they cannot request a porting of a number from current provider as there is no agreement between the two (despite the current provider confirming there was). They said 'It simply is not possible'.  I tell him current provider say they can - release my number but I remind him I cannot stop the current contract until new provider have requested my number.  I will need the number on the new provider line from about 14 Feb.

New provider say it is not possible at all to port the number and if I don't want the new provider contract to start then they should cancel it.  I told him I thought it was on hold until I called them at the end of Jan - when I told them I would call them - ie 14 days before the 14 Feb.  He says I need to cancel the new provider contract or it will start.

I get a little bit annoyed by now and put my foot down and politely request to speak with a manager. I am not happy it is going tits up already.  He says there is a 48 hour wait for a manager callback.  I tell him that is a pile of tosh I would like a manager now if he cannot speak some sense.  He puts me on hold 'to check something'.

Next voice is a 'manager'. Ryan in Manchester at 13:12 21.11.14 who tells me the new provider contract is about to go live and they are not able to ask for a number from current provider because this is not how it works.  He suggests I take a telephone line with BT who can take the number from the current provider, then I can change from BT to new provider as they do have an agreement with BT (no mention of the fact BT will probably only give me a line if I take out a minimum term contract with them and the potential for that going tits up too is about 99%).

I tell him forget it.  If I can't keep my number (which I ported to current provider from BT two years ago when I took their plan out) then I do not want to change. I just want to cancel.  He says he will ensure it is cancelled.

I rang current provider to cancel the phone (the TV and BB are already under notice).  As I am not taking their number to my new provider.  Current provider point out the new provider will only be able to offer me half the speed of internet I have with them at the moment - was I aware of that?  I wasn't.  Current provider offer me the same deal I intend to take with the new provider for only £5 more a month but with twice the speed.  As the kids are all on their tablet computers all the time, this makes sense.  Current provider also offer me £30 credit in a last ditch attempt to keep me.

This appears a good deal.  As I am going to have to accept i am not able to keep my number if I move, I decide to stay with my current provider.  Current provider cancel the cancellation and put it through as just a TV cancellation. 

Phew so it is now all sorted...

26.11.14  Email from new provider informing me my BB and phone are now live and welcome.

26.11.14  Email back to new provider - giving name, address, DOB, footsize and email address (I know the score now), asking WTF is happening.

26.11.14 reply from new provider asking for my  name, address, DOB and email address saying once they have this they will reply within 48 hours.

26.11.14 Reply to their reply 'you have my  name, address, dob and email address. WTF is happening?'

26.11.14 Reply to their reply to my reply 'We are sorry it is too late to cancel.  Your account is now live let us know if you want any more assistance'.

26.11.14 Reply to their reply to my reply to their reply to my reply.  CANCEL THIS ACCOUNT I do not want broadband from you or indeed any dealings with you ever, ever again.

26.11.14  Standard email from new provider 'Sorry you are leaving us - there may be charges if you have cut your contract short'.

One blown fuse...

Call centres. The stress continues - nothing changes...

After my last job - which is where my original call centre stress incident/s took place.  I decided I'd had enough of being spoken to as if I were the scrapings from somebody's shoe after a walk in the park.  After two years, two months and two days too many (yes I counted), I managed a great escape.  I'd had enough I was outta there.  I thought part of the reason the customers were so evil there, other than that I appeared to be on the 666 extension from Hell, was that they assumed (obviously incorrectly) that as I worked for a retailer that I was worth nothing - clearly not intelligent enough to do anything other than speak on the phone to ignorant, rude peasant life. I therefore deserved the sharp end of their tongue - clearly it was my fault the driver had been caught in traffic and that their very basic human rights had now, clearly been breached by my allowing their shopping to be delivered 2 minutes late - or - far, far worse - that their bread was slightly mis-shapen or a grape was squished or WHATEVER piddly excuse for a complaint they could think of in order to call up and demand 'condensation' - I kid you not - half were semi literate at best.

So I left there kicking my heels in the air, hugging the poor unfortunates who remained.  My poor colleagues, I will never forget them.  The staff themselves were all lovely.  Many were there as the company offered the only hours they could work as many had young families to support or some were even university students trying to earn a living.  At least they all had a job.

I got a new job - HURAH - where? It's in ANOTHER CALL CENTRE.  Details of the new job are not going to be divulged on here but the customers are different on the whole as I no longer work on a complaint line.

Yay! New job, fresh start. different company, different workplace, different business. Happy me!

However - and as I have worked in many different call centres over 20 years or so - there will ALWAYS be that 1 in 1000 customers who has called just to be as obnoxious as they possibly can be.  These people are clearly spawned from the bowels of a swamp monster and probably should not be out in public nor should they be allowed access to a phone,  These people will FIND something to wind you up even if there isn't one.

One such example appeared on the other end of my line. I asked this particular example of peasant life what her email address was.  She said it so fast it was impossible to catch.  I asked her to repeat it.  With a huge sigh, and if she were speaking to an imbecile she repeated it - just as fast but this time loudly.  I tried to use phonetics but clearly this was above her level of intelligence and she asked me if I had an issue with my hearing.  I explained I did not have such an issue but it was vital I got the email correct in case I needed to send her details discussed on the call. To this she replied
'OH FOR GOD'S SAKE' and proceeded to repeat it loudly but twice as fast.
There was a short silence on the line as I typed her notes.  She piped up:-
"you don't want to speak to me do you? - I can tell as you are very rude."
She was definitely just trying to get me to bite which I refused to do.  I completed the call but had arm ache where my left arm had been battling with my right arm to press the red DISCONNECT button.  We are not allowed to do this.  Customers are aware of this.  I am new so I am currently on my best behaviour and so am not able to say what I want to say.

I finally ended the call and I was literally shaking with frustration.  In real life she would never have spoken to me like that (trust me).  I have had to come home with that call in my head and even though I had six or more lovely calls after that it is that evil witch which sticks in my head.

Now it is out of my head and on here where I hope it will benefit others who may have spoken to similar dregs.  Now I shall go and tend to my stomach ulcer which is clearly developing nicely.  Perhaps a few rounds with a punchbag would help.

:(

Taking the kids away in term time - Skiing - No longer allowed! :(

Since time began I have been passionate about skiing.  I love everything skiing.  I love snow, I love cold I love winter.  I am totally in love with the mountains, the fresh air, the atmosphere - everything.  Since I discovered skiing at the ripe old age of 23 I have only ever missed one year which was when my firstborn was a few months old and even then I considered taking him and putting him in the ski creche.  All the kids skiied before they were born (sshh don't tell the midwives).  I have worked in various ski resorts for the full winter season and I never felt more healthy, alive or more at home than I do in the mountains.

Skiing is my drug - I don't smoke or drink or spend to excess.  I work hard and I save hard to be able to indulge in what I have to do.  It is my main hobby - it is a drug to me.  I am not a sporty type - believe me - I climb the stairs and I am knackered, I really can't do any other sport but skiing - it is as if the energy comes from somewhere else.  None of my family ever skied when I was growing up but it was something I always knew I would love.  My first trip was to Mayrhofen, Austria where I was so rubbish that out of 300 skiers that week I won the booby prize for coming last in the ski race.  That didn't matter because I had fun.  The next year I went out to work for the season and I got better and better and better.  Now I like to be up the mountain at 8.30am and do not come down until the lifts close for the night at about 4.30pm.  I can do virtually any run happily and confidently.

For seven years I skied on my own as none of my friends ski.  I was quite happy to find a ski buddy once out there, just link up with a group or even ski alone.  Give me a week  in the mountains over two weeks on a beach somewhere tropical any day.

My point is skiing to me is something I just have to do.

Since the kids came along and  hit five years old I have taken one of them away skiing with me every year.  So each gets to ski once every three years. The bloke doesn't ski but as an addict I NEED TO SKI. I have to ski - it is a compulsion. When Hell freezes over I will still ski.

I have really enjoyed the one to one I get with the kids as having three of them, I very rarely get to spend any quality time with any one on their own.  As an adult skiing with one child I still have to pay adult prices for both of us - reduced or free child places only happens where there are two adults.  It is expensive and probably costs about £1,700 all told for two of us for a week.

Skiing holidays are typically for one week - this equates to FIVE days off school for one child every three years.  The child benefits greatly, none are yet in high school and other than that they all have 98-100% attendance for the rest of the year.

The school in their wisdom have sent a flyer in which they say the school is open to pupils for 190 days of the year which, according to their recent letter, leaves 175 days for holidays.  Have you ever gone skiing in August?  The ski season is mid December to mid April.  So the only holidays during that time are:
1) Christmas - As it is just me and one child we are not going to leave the rest of the family over Christmas or New Year - besides you can DOUBLE the price for these weeks if you do so £3000 plus for a mother and child.
2) This leaves Easter break which is a no for the same reason.
3) So half term then - quite aside from the price for the half term week - about £1000 more for the two of us, you get half the amount of skiing in because of all the other kids on the slopes whose parents are rich.  The queues are horrendous - ever queued at a theme park - picture that for every lift whereas if you went out of half term you would get almost straight on the lift and go.

So sorry kids - even though you have above 99% attendance every term and the only holiday we can afford as a family is camping in Tenby, I am sorry but the one week every three years you look forward to so much is no longer going to happen.

I am gutted. -

and now I have found a link to a petition.
https://you.38degrees.org.uk/petitions/stopping-school-fines-for-taking-our-children-on-family-holidays?bucket&source=facebook-share-button&time=1421177212

Call Centre Working ~ Goodbye stress ~ Hello hair I'm OUT :)

Finally a ticket out of Hell - Happy happy happy.

After two years, two months and two days of working in the job from Hell, I now have a ticket out of thhere in the form of a new job!  I am ecstatic. Words fail me...  Ok words never fail me - for I am a writer. If I have an issue with anything it will come out in writing and then I will feel unburdened and therefore better.

For fear of getting myself into trouble I won't mention the name of the company where the job from Hell was/is but it was in a call centre, of which there are probably thousands in the UK, dealing with calls from members of the public (98% of which are complaints - the remainder are prank calls or wrong numbers). The job is not to deal with big important mind-blowingly terrible complaints but the smaller piddly insignificant (on the scale of life) high volume complaints the importance of which were/are lower than a worm's arse.  I cannot be specific but really the way some of them scream you'd assume their very basic human rights had been compromised not that their delivery was three minutes late.

Big complaints I can handle no problem - I can empathise if something has gone terribly wrong.  I can listen while people scream at me.  I can and will apologise if it is necessary and then I will do my utmost to fix it.

It is the niggly whinges which are driving me slowly but surely, call by call, sixty times a night, five nights a week TOTALLY AND UTTERLY BARKING BLOODY MAD. These teeny weeny complaints - like their delivery is 3 (yes three) minutes late. Or the delivery box is ever so slightly dented or the driver was whistling the wrong tune or the delivery note got wet. Had the driver driven over the cat then perhaps I could understand it. Not only do they complain but they scream abuse and are utterly unrealistic when they do so.  These lowlifes (and it is not the majority of customers it is about one in twenty on the extreme side of complaining) are the type of people who you would cross the street to avoid.  If you met one face to face you would want to punch them right in their smarmy chops or scream abuse right back at them or slam the door in their face or push them off a cliff.

Before I worked in a call centre I was a happy and cheerful kind of girl who had never had a confrontation with another human being.  To suddenly be confronted with dozens of these was a shock. I am plugged into my phone and so forced to listen to them and take their abuse on a daily basis.  I am told it isn't personal. However sometimes, it clearly is.  I have had many nights where I simply cannot get the call out of my head even at 4am some nights I lie in bed with the call replaying itself over and over in my head.  My brain tells me I should not have allowed myself to be spoken to like that.  I know I am worth so much more than allowing myself to be spoken to in that way by some person (I use the term 'person' loosely) whom I've never met.

One problem is these peasants have access to telephones ~ which is a problem.  If it they were to speak to anyone face to face the way they speak to a voice on the phone then the police would probably have to be called.  Aggressive, unreasonable, rude, ignorant, often stupid, uneducated and blatantly with little or no anger management ability.  As they have access to telephones they are able to pick up and make a call while they are at the height of their anger.  Half the time they do not even have their facts straight - had they just had a cup of tea or walked up and down the street, stroked the cat or just waited a moment before they picked up the phone then our job would be a whole lot more pleasant.

Us poor call takers not only have to remain polite to these demon customers from Hell but we have to let them scream vile abuse at us.  They scream over us 'LET ME FINISH' and then they scream further at us that we are there to listen to them and so we'd better bloody well listen. We are not allowed to hang up - this is grounds for an official warning.  They can scream, shout, insult our intelligence and parentage, tell us to shut up while they 'speak' then tell us what amoebas we must be to be working in a call centre and we should listen to them as they are a customer. They tell us they are more important than us because they have a proper job and are therefore far too important to actually go to a shop themselves to pick up the item and this, they tell us, is why they have it delivered.  Eventually, having refused to let us get a word in edgeways and given us loud and large abuse for ten minutes, they tell us they want to speak to a manager because clearly we are far too stupid to understand what they want and they are far too important to speak to us idiot minions. While it is a part of our job to deal with the call, and we are all perfectly capable of doing so, at this point we will have to get a manager because the customer has demanded one, who will then take over the call and inevitably tell them EXACTLY THE SAME thing we would have done had they let us speak.  While we put the peasant on hold to get the manager he/she/it has had the chance to calm down and when the manager picks up the phone the peasant has inevitably changed from the evil demon customer from hell to a semi-normal person - this is because he/she/it has had a minute on hold to contemplate how totally unreasonable he/she/it has been.  Those 'Listen to me Darlin' if I don't get what I want NOW, I will expect compensation/call the papers/shop elsewhere/tell my mate Terry who works in the newspaper/write to the CEO/throw all my toys out of the pram' calls are wearing thin. You speak to me as if I am an amoeba's underpants and then you expect me to help you. Here's a hint - TRY BEING NICE! - ever considered that as an option? It may just be that if I WANT to help you and if I ENJOY our conversation then both of us will feel that little bit better at the end and YOU may just get what you wanted and possibly a little bit more.

This constant peck peck peck day after day, night after night and hour after hour is giving me an ulcer and my subdued axe murderer tendencies are rising to the surface. I must get out and soon - the right way not the leap out the top floor window way. I suspect if it had not have been one it would have been the other.  I have a new job so I am OUT.

I will not miss those conversations which should not happen either, like when you have to speak to those who have never even heard of the phonetic alphabet and you waste your call stats figures something CHRONIC on those.
'OK Mrs customer so you say your post code starts with B for bravo?'
Silence 'No EEEEE' (fuzzy line and said at some volume).
'Is that E for Echo?'
'No'
'could you tell me whet 'EEEE' stands for Mrs customer?'
'EEEEEEEEEE'
Sigh! 'Is that B for BIKE, C for cat, D for dog, E for egg, P for pig, G for golf, T for tree or V for victor Mrs customer?'
'No EEEEEE'
'OK I am sorry it is a very bad line - can you tell me what EEEEE stands for'
'EEEEEEEE'
Finally THIRTEEN minutes later when you have lost the will to live and your stats have put you six feet under, the customer will say...
'EEEEEEE for Zeeeebra'.

You couldn't make it up!

To anyone who ever needs to call a call centre - remember KARMA!

Thank You. and goodbye.

Ten months on THE BOOK IS OUT but has the house improved?

No! Absolutely no improvement at all.  I took a few months off even going round there so I could get my book finished and with help from my very fave auntie who assisted with the editing and a million other questions I had.

Now the book  is out on Amazon Kindle and Paperback in the UK and in USA
(links to both below).

The house as viewed today has changed very little since the day he fell and since the television people cleared out a whole room for him..  The stairs are cluttered again - the carpet has gone both the one fitted to the stairs and the one rolled up on the stairs.  The stairs are now bare wood - in the middle of a house. He hasn't got round to getting them sorted yet.

The living room is not improved at all and the boxes are still up to the ceiling.  the floor in my old room is now invisible again.

He said it was all getting him down - so my question ~ why the buggery bollocks doesn't he TIDY IT then. Grrrrr.  He is home all day and retired.  I asked if I could help him by taking a box or two home to sort - he said no because he hadn't sorted them yet! Hello - Dad - no I didn't say to THROW OUT (I wish) I said to SORT THROUGH. Pointless even going there!

So the book ~ Ah wondered when that would get a mention ~ Well I wrote it under the pseudonym Izabelle Winter - why? ~ I won't bore you with the details but the chance to write under a pen name and to be able to call myself anything I wanted did appeal.  I thought it sounded more authorish - OK so I get carried away sometimes.

AND... because I did not want Dad to be recognised - see the respectful daughter I am did it for his dignity and protection. - HOWEVER it appears he doesn't give two hoots anyway.  I had mentioned this blog to him - he didn't take much notice and does not have a computer anyway.  So about three months ago I mentioned the book. His comment ... wait for it ...   "Oh," he said "a book" and then asked if I had seen his cushion he had lost.

I mentioned it again today FOUR times.
'Dad,' I said 'You know that book I was writing?'
'Book!' he said ~ helpfully.
'Yes book'
'What about a book?'
'I'm writing one, I told you before, - well it is finished now and I've found a publisher.'
'Ah ~ the postman's been ~ he's late again for a Thursday'
'Dad ~ What do you think?'
'What do I think about what?'
'My book Dad - it's going to be published!'
'Yes, you said ~ Oh more bills ~ and junk mail ~ I'm registered with the CPS you know AND I continue to get those wretched phone calls too.'
'So what do you think?'
'About what?'
'The book Dad, the book'
'Yes what about it?'

It was at that point I gave up.  What exactly is the point? Was he proud? Interested? Bovvered?

You tell me!

So anyway - here are the links...

If you do get a copy PLEASE let me know what you think - If you like it please let all your friends know.  :)

UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Diary-Hoarders-Daughter-Izabelle-Winter-ebook/dp/B00KDGZ2RC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1402598780&sr=8-1&keywords=diary+of+a+hoarders+daughter

USA
http://www.amazon.com/Diary-Hoarders-Daughter-Izabelle-Winter-ebook/dp/B00KDGZ2RC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1402598818&sr=8-1&keywords=diary+of+a+hoarders+daughter

If you do get it I hope you enjoy it.  Please let me know your comments.

Call Centre Working Can Be One of The Most Stressful Jobs on Earth!

23/12/2013

Call Centre Jobs can be Extremely Stressful

During my thirty year career I have dealt with the general public thousands of times but NEVER have I spoken to anyone as rude as the ones I speak to in my current job who appear to believe their basic human rights have been breached because their shopping has not been delivered on time or has an item missing.

People - I know it must be frustrating for you but just possibly could you have a cup of tea before calling; after you have come down off your little pedestal and calmed down just a bit.  At least wait until the steam is no longer emitting from your ears. Please! - for the sake of all us long suffering souls who have to answer the phone to you.

I have vast experience speaking to the public on the phone as both a motor insurance underwriter and a loss adjuster. I've spoken to people who are often highly emotional.  As a call centre worker I take over sixty calls during a five hour shift and these are 99% complaints - people very rarely call to say how happy they are. Day in day out. Peck, peck, peck, peck. After a very short while it begins to grind you down until you eventually begin to lose the will to live and your inner demons surface. This may be the reason all the windows on the top floor are bolted closed.

Following redundancy from the 18 years in insurance, I now work in an incoming call centre dealing with irate members of the public regarding their home shopping deliveries. Total shock! Never have I been spoken to the way some of the customers talk to me on the phone.  I'm regularly spoken to as if I'm something which has just been scraped off a shoe.  Mr and Mrs Public appear to think anyone who answers the phone from a call centre is fair game for as much abuse as they wish to spew forth until they feel relieved of whatever pent up stress they have accumulated over the preceding hour/day/month/year.  Some folk treat us as if we are at the bottom of the scale of life itself. Amoebas with the intellectual ability of ant dandruff.

It is a call handler's job to hear the customer out, let them vent and then provide a solution to the issue in as quick and as appropriate a way as possible, politely and professionally. I know the calls are recorded and should I feel the urge to advise the caller to stick their attitude where the sun doesn't shine, I must resist.

They say things like 'I don't give an effing TOSS if your driver and his effing van is at the bottom of a cliff ~ that's not MY problem ~ I want my effing shopping and I want it NOW!'  Oh joy! We are supposed to treat these individuals with respect and professionalism.

Call centre staff are there because they need a job, some as a stop gap while studying for a degree at university, some because they need the unsociable hours in order to juggle the needs of a family. Some are there as a second job. Some may even be there because they like it (although this is unlikely!) Nobody ~ NOBODY leaves school with the sole ambition of working in a call centre. We're all real live people and we have the same daily stresses and strains as everyone else. Even so, some members of the public think it's perfectly acceptable to be as nasty and as rude as possible ~ it's almost like a form of therapy in a 'lets call some idiot in a call centre and let them have it' kind of way. If they can't see us then we are clearly androids and not humans.

Whatever it is our company has or hasn't done is not personally our fault, even so, we will do our utmost to put it right.  We know what can be done and the appropriate action to take.  We can, will and actually want to make customers happy.  After all if they are happy then this makes us happy as we feel we've done our job well and they will not scream or abuse us. - Good call!  If you get the vibe that we may be being a trifle abrupt with you just bear in mind this is probably because you have been abrupt with us.

A colleague of mine with a child of three, who is studying an advanced maths degree in university was told 'listen love I know you don't quite understand how things work in the real world as you are only a monkey in a call centre'. Another colleague who has two jobs to make ends meet has been told 'I know you unfortunates can only dream of earning what I earn and I really don't have time to be messing about with your type on the phone'.  An Asian colleague who's lived in the UK forty or more years since age two who sits at the desk next to me in has been told 'I don't want to talk to you I want to talk to someone in my own country'. Another was told 'I want to speak to someone who earns more money than you' - (tempting oh so tempting to say 'well you can speak to Wayne effing Rooney if you like but he's not going to help you with your shopping is he?) I could cite many more examples ~ my point is callers have NO IDEA who they are talking to.

My current colleagues are all the most wonderful, colourful, diverse, down to earth, grounded. wild and exotic people I could ever wish to work with.  All of them have their own life stories, their own families and their own very individual personalities. The company deals with online deliveries - a big company, good name, good prospects, nice office and lovely staff. Our customers choose to have their shopping delivered ~ a convenience which they pay very little for so they don't have to go to the store themselves.

Occasionally something goes wrong!  Imagine the busiest time of year for this type of business - let's call it 'Christmas' shall we? Superstores are obviously very busy this time of year and it is not a pleasant experience doing battle with other like minded individuals also involved with this Christmas malarkey. Most people I know will opt to roll up their sleeves, sharpen their elbows and prepare to do battle in the shops. The advantages of this are that you can pick your own items. If there is something sold out - (just imagine that at Christmas - it may just be a passing possibility may it not?) then you can choose your own alternative.  You can pack your own items in the order that you like and take your time to do this.  You can then pack your own bags into your own car and take them lovingly to your own house and put them ever so carefully away.  You can then forget about everything, knowing you have done all the work in advance to ensure your lovely family have all they could want and need and lots, lots more beside.  Happy days!

Having their shopping delivered is a necessity for some people ~ the elderly, infirm or disabled. Some people have childcare issues and I know that shopping with three kids in tow is one of those things once done once never to be repeated. For most people though, having their groceries delivered is an option. It is NOT a basic human right. They pay a little more for somebody else to pick their items so that they can do more important things such as watch TV or go to the pub or just sit on their lardy arses and do nothing.  This somebody else is quite often a student or young person just starting out in the job world.  This person has a target to hit and has to pick many items for many other people at the same time. Errors will occasionally be made, items may be out of stock and alternatives may not be available.  Some food items may have a shorter life than you would have picked yourself.  Sometimes items will be damaged and this will not be noticed.  This is not deliberate.

Imagine the following scenario:  December 23rd and the driver just dropped off your Christmas order. You check the whole order, all is fine except the yoghurt is dated boxing day and  HORROR OF HORRORS, the cranberries are missing!  OMG! What the hell are you to do? The CRANBERRIES! - your whole Christmas is now obviously ruined.  Totally and utterly ruined.  How dare they ruin your Christmas. What on EARTH are you to do? Hey why not just call the incompetent raging fools and give the bloody idiots a piece of your mind? My word how are you possibly meant to get through Christmas without the cranberries after all they are the whole meaning of Christmas.  Your whole year will be totally ruined when your family realise you have planned dinner and have not got the cranberries.  You have failed as a wife/husband, a mother/father and a cook.  In fact your whole life is ruined. Boy are they going to suffer when you get through.  You will give those total imbeciles a piece of your mind. How very dare they.  You have PAID for this service and they have made a mockery of you.

So you punch those numbers into your phone, steam emitting from your ears and your pulse going like the clappers. Boy are those incompetent idiots going to pay for this.  You get a message on the line to say they are busy at the moment but your call will be answered as soon as possible.  Oh gosh can your blood pressure take any more?  Surely in the very near future you will surely explode with anger.  The answerphone message repeats itself.
'we are very sorry to keep you waiting, however we know you are waiting and your call is important to us, please continue to wait and your call will be answered shortly.'
By now your ears are pulsating with frustration, not only have this company ruined your Christmas dinner but they are now going to be the cause of your early demise. Oh boy are they going to get it.

Finally after three whole minutes and thirty seven seconds your call is answered by a friendly 'smiling' voice.  The owner of this voice is doing her utmost to sound friendly.  The owner of this voice has been told to 'smile' when she speaks as the customer will know the difference. This smiley voice is beginning to sound like a cheese grater. The owner of this voice has been in work for six hours now and has another two to go, she has already spoken to 47 other people using her smiley voice, 7 of whom were lovely and polite and wished her a Happy Christmas, 12 of whom were calling to complain their delivery was 2 minutes late and asking where the hell it was and why the hell were they paying for it, 17 of whom were not happy that their shopping was not quite as perfect as it would have been had they got off their lardy arses and gone to the store and picked it themselves, 1 of whom wanted 'condensation' (I kid you not) because a yoghurt had leaked over his bananas and he had had to wash them (imagine the trauma)! Six of whom have been moderately inconvenienced because an item was out of stock and had been substituted with a item/flavour they didn't like.  Some were polite, a few were even friendly. One or two called as they had every week to get as much money back on their order as possible by lying that items were missing/damaged/out of date - yes we know you do it we aren't stupid, we see your records of previous calls and we know...

One woman however had been afflicted with the worst possible scenario :-    the store had not delivered her cranberries. Unimaginable error causing unimaginable stress! THE HORROR!

Conversation as follows:

'Good evening, welcome to XYZ, my name is Jo. How can I help you today?' (smiley face Jo, remember the customer will know).
'RightyourdriverhasbeenanddeliveredmyshoppingandIamDISGUSTED'.
(OK Jo, you may have had many other people shout and scream abuse at you for the past six hours, however, this customer deserves to be treated with respect and as an individual - be professional, be polite, the customer is probably traumatised and upset - something terrible must have happened! - perhaps the driver has run over her cat or reversed into her new Mercedes).
'Oh I am sorry to hear that Mrs customer, let me take a look at this for you'.
'It is simply not good enough, my cranberries are missing. I had ordered them for a reason you know I was going to make cranberry sauce and now I have no cranberries, it is totally disgusting. What the hell am I going to do now for Christmas dinner? Huh - you tell me!  It is simply not good enough! I want my cranberries delivered to me NOW!'
'OK Mrs customer let me see what I can do for you. Would you mind if I put you on  hold a minute to see if I can contact the driver...'
'No you won't SEE if you can contact the driver you WILL contact the driver and you will do it NOW.'
'OK Mrs Customer I will just see what I can do. I could offer you a refund if you prefer'.
'I DONT WANT A BLOODY REFUND (said slowly and loudly as if talking to an imbecile) I want my bloody cranberries you have obviously not been listening to me'
'OK Mrs customer, bear with me and I will call the driver'.
(Jo calls driver - driver does not answer).
'Hello Mrs Customer. I am very sorry the driver does not appear to be answering as I think he may be driving. I can...'
'What do you mean he is not answering. That is not MY problem is it. It is YOUR problem and YOU are going to sort it out. I want YOU to get my items to me NOW'
'OK Mrs customer I am really sorry about this but you see I need to contact the driver to see if he has the items on the van and if he is able to return to you if he does..'
'What do you mean 'if'? - No. You listen to me YOU WILL CONTACT THE DRIVER, you will do it now and I want my items in the next ten minutes this is absolutely disgusting, totally unacceptable, I am absolutely not going to wait for your incompetence and hang on this phone. You will get my shopping to me and you will do it now.  I don't want to hear your incompetent excuses'.
'Right Mrs customer I will see if I can contact the driver and call you back...'
'No you will not call me back - I am very busy. I just want my items. How dare you tell me I can't have my items. How dare you tell me it is up to me to chase it up that is YOUR job and your effort to help me is abysmal. It is absolutely disgusting. I paid for a service how dare you tell me to deal with it'.
(Er hello I think you will find you were offered help here not told to chase it yourself), Jo - her blood pressure rising to the level of 347psi knows she must remain professional.  She must allow this tirade of abuse rise over her head.  She is literally shaking with frustration. She feels sick. A typical 'fight or flight' type reaction. In regular face to face life she would have walked away (or run in the way you do if you see some wild animal with teeth barred - either that or hit the animal very hard in the face or with a stick)  Very similar situations in my opinion.
Jo is not able to help herself...
'Mrs customer is there any need to be quite so rude?  I am trying to help you!'
Mrs customer continues her verbal assault this time telling Jo how she only works in a call centre and so obviously does not understand the stresses and strains of someone with an important job. Jo is obviously personally unimportant, incompetent, clearly stupid and lacking in intelligence, immature, extremely rude and boy is she going to suffer for it.
'Excuse ME' says Mrs customer 'Who do you think you are talking to?  How DARE you call me rude!  You have been extremely rude, incompetent and totally unhelpful. What is your name?'
'My name is Jo' (no Jo resist the urge to offer to spell 'Jo' - tempting, so tempting but don't do it).
'Well JO, I hope these calls are recorded. - Are these calls recorded JO? because I hope they are. Because JO, I think you have been very rude and unhelpful and I am going to complain about you JO I am sure your seniors will be interested to know how you speak to people JO. I have noted the time and the date of this call and I am going to put in a complaint about you JO'.
'Mrs Customer I have offered to help you, I have offered to call you back, I am not able to do anything right now as I cannot contact the driver.  I need to contact him to see if he has your cranberries and if he does to see if he is able to return with them.  Can I call you back?'
'I do not want you to call me back.  I don't want to speak to you you have been very rude, incompetent and unhelpful.  I am very busy and I do not want you to interfere with my evening any further than you have. You have been extremely rude to me and I am going to take this further. You get my items to me and you do it NOW! Goodbye!'    (slam of the phone).

Jo sits in her chair, her heart racing, literally shaking with emotion. She would never speak to anyone the way she has just been spoken to by this customer. Jo wouldn't speak to a dog the way she has just been spoken to.  Jo has done all in her power to help this caller and has had to listen to a tirade of abuse aimed at her personally. She is expected to remain professional and polite.  Jo was told in her training that any abuse is not personal. Clearly this customer has got under her skin.  The  constant use of her first name was clearly intended as personal and was condescending in itself, as was the suggestion she was just a call centre worker who was not able to do her job very well and was rude and stupid into the bargain. Of the 70 odd calls Jo is expected to take in a day and the 300 or 400 calls she will take in a week this customer has got right under her skin and really got to her.  She is still shaking and a burning hot tear rolls down her face.  Jo is not a kid, nor is she stupid, she is professional and she has been abused by this excuse for humanity, albeit verbally.

Jo wonders if this customer will complain.  If she does, will the company back her up or give her a warning?  Jo replays the call over and over in her mind - all she did was ask the customer if it was really necessary to be quite so rude.  She knows all calls are recorded and this customer may complain. She wants to scream, to cry, to talk it over with someone.  Jo is feeling sick - to date after two years at the call centre only about three customers have been quite this rude and got under her skin this much. Jo puts her phone code in 'emergency break' and goes to get herself and Lou a nice cup of tea. She is allowed six minutes.

She returns, still shaking with stress and frustration.  This can't be good for her health.  Jo tries to tell Lou about the call.  Lou is sympathetic - she's had many similar calls.  Everyone on the team has had similar calls.  Lou asks if Jo is OK - Jo is not OK, she is still shaking, what she needs is a shooting range or a punchbag or a stiff whisky.  However, her emergency break six minutes has now come to an end and she has another 67 minutes to go before she can go home. She puts her headset back on, plugs herself back into Hell, and clicks her phone into 'ready' - there's a long queue of calls waiting.  Here we go again.

Jo officially finished her shift at 9.30pm although wasn't able to go home until 9.47 as she had to finish dealing with another complaint before she left. Leaving late is just an expected part of the job and not a part which is paid or appreciated. Jo ends her shift and heads home.  At home there is nobody awake and she is still upset.  There is a tight knot in her stomach has stubbornly refused to untie by the following morning.  She tells her family about the call.  They listen, they give her a hug but they are clearly not interested and she is left to mull it over and over.  It will be Christmas soon.  Jo knows she should leave the call behind and move on, but the knot remains and she has to get it out somehow. She tries to forget it but the knot will not untie.  She can't vent on Facebook as although she'd never mention the company she's aware Big Brother is always watching and if found out she'd be for the high jump.  Perhaps her company should be offering support. So for cathartic effect, she writes a blog about it. - Perhaps the blog will provide a bit of a laugh to poor unfortunate fellow call centre workers. Perhaps it will be read by people who see call centre workers as fair game for their frustrations. Perhaps they will think twice next time.
.
DISCLAIMER:  This blog is written purely it to get it out of my head.  We don't always have time to speak about these things at the time or people to talk about them with and they are left to go over and over and over. It MUST come out.  If I didn't write it down it would stew in my head until my head exploded and that would make an awful mess on the call centre carpet.  So with this in mind all references to people in this blog whether living or not are entirely coincidental.

Yeah Right!

Jo!  
(Names changed to protect the innocent).

For more on this story and others - see 'Confessions of a Call Centre Worker' by Izabelle Winter. ;)